


His First Knight

by Figtoria



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x04 rewrite, Brienne POV, F/M, First Time, Fix-It, Fluff, Happy Ending, Jaime POV, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-04-06 07:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19058131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Figtoria/pseuds/Figtoria
Summary: Their first night and the day and night following it.  It includes the reactions of those around them, which I missed seeing in the show.  And it also includes some conversations about issues that they needed to figure out.It's all smut and fluff and happy ever after.   That's my head canon and nothing will ever change that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is their first night the way it happened in my head.

Jaime hesitated outside her door, juggling the cups and flagon from one arm to the other. His head was swimming, and it wasn’t only all the Dornish wine he’d been drinking. Was he really going to do this? He wanted to. He’d been watching her all night. He couldn’t think about anything else. And when that giant buffoon of a wildling had tried to follow Brienne out of the dining hall, he had felt an urge to protect and possess her, more strongly than he’d known was possible. It was primal. To make her >his<. He shook his head; or maybe it was more that he wanted to be >hers<. He shrugged – makes no difference, he thought, I have to try. If she’ll have me. Before he could wind himself back into another internal argument, he knocked at Brienne’s door and held his breath. His last thought before the door opened was that he had no idea what to say.

Brienne got back to her room after using the privy and carefully took off her over clothes. Her stomach felt a little queasy, she was flushed and a little irritated. Why did Tyrion have to spoil everything. Jaime knew (or had guessed) that she was virgin years ago when he’d been her prisoner. That was no surprise to anyone at that table, even Pod could have guessed it. So why had Tyrion brought it up – something so personal, so…mortifying. It was no ones’ business but her own. She’d been having so much fun; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so relaxed and at home. A knock interrupted her musings. 

Oh Gods, she thought to herself after opening the door, he’s so beautiful. Why...what is he doing here?? But she knew. She’d known since their eyes met over that first glass of wine tonight. 

He swept in and his presence filled the room; a mix of Dornish wine and sweat, and something distinctly Jaime. She breathed him in, even as they bickered back and forth at each other in the usual way. Underneath the banter, her mind raced. Should I? Is this what I want? He’s so broken; better than he was, but still broken. She was too honest to deceive even herself; broken or not she wanted this. She wanted him. Honestly, she’d wanted him for years, she’d just never dreamed it would ever become reality.

“I’ve never slept with anyone before,” she breathed a quiet, unnecessary confession.

Gods. I am shaking like a child. How can people not see how beautiful she is? I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve this. Aloud, he babbled senselessly, something about drinking, all the while drowning in her eyes. Will she? Does she want this? Does she want me? Oh Gods, she does!

As they fumbled their way to semi-nakedness, he couldn’t stop staring at her. She spoke but all he could think of is how much he wanted to taste her. Still muttering nonsense about their drinking game, he finally surrendered. He pushed all doubts about his worthiness fiercely aside and dove for her mouth. She met his lips just as frantically and he almost whimpered with relief.

After several minutes of desperate exploration, they side stepped each other gracelessly towards the fur covered bed. Jaime tripped over something and dragged her down onto the bed with him, kicking off his boots. Brienne followed eagerly - joyfully. He began to unlace the top of her pants, and this time she let him, and helped, when one hand wasn’t enough. Wriggling her own trousers down and off, she reached for the drawstrings on his pants. He rolled flat to allow her to undo them as quickly as possible, but without letting go of her lips. She fumbled sightlessly and finally had to break their connection to look at what she was doing. She found and released the last closure. The clear evidence of his desire sprang free, and her eyes flew open wide. She was a little startled, but mostly fascinated. She’d seen cocks before. Hell, she’d even seen >his< cock before, but not this close, nor this…enlarged.

She blushed, and he grinned, sitting up to capture her lips again. He pushed his pants the rest of the way down his legs, then he drew her back down onto the bed. “Come here.” His voice was low with no trace of banter, just desire. Softly kissing and exploring her mouth, he caressed her breasts and belly and slowly drew his hand down her side to her thigh. All his senses were tuned to detecting the slightest tension or hesitation in her response. Every time he felt her falter or hold her breath, he slowed his advances and concentrated on kissing her thoroughly until he felt her relax again. Progress was slow but steady. Before long his hand was gently rubbing her mound and inching, with deliciously frustrating caution, slowly between her folds. As his fingers slipped into the plentiful wetness between her other lips, he felt his cock twitch and he hoped he wouldn’t embarrass himself. 

Brienne had no idea that kissing Jaime would be as all encompassing a delight as it was proving to be. True, she confessed to herself, she had thought about it many (many) nights, but she’d had no experience to truly imagine it properly. His mouth was warm and soft and firm, all at the same time. He tasted like wine. His tongue explored her willing mouth. His beard was rough against her skin, but not unpleasantly so. Periodically, he would disengage her lips for a moment and look into her eyes. The first couple of times he did this, she’d fought a ridiculous notion that he might suddenly recognize her and leap up in horror. But every time their eyes met, he’d grin at her with a gloriously happy, almost giddy expression. And each time, Jaime’s happy grin created a hot, wet pulse between her legs. The whole experience was remarkable and surprising and it had barely begun! As his fingers slowly crept between her legs, she tensed up waiting for pain? Discomfort? She didn’t know. But nothing like that happened. It all just felt wonderful. She began to relax and trust in his efforts to please her. 

Jaime felt her surrender in the relaxed, slight parting of her thighs. He groaned with desire. “Brienne…you’re so lovely…I want you so much…”  
Slowly he put one, then two fingers inside her. She gasped. “That feels so…” “Good?” he offered. “Strange,” but she grinned at him encouragingly. He moved his head down and nuzzled and kissed her mound, pressing his mouth where it would have the most effect.

She mewed like a kitten and bucked her hips straining towards him.

“Jaime… please…I want you inside me…please.” 

All his resolve to make their first time together last as long as possible nearly evaporated. Just hearing her deep, sultry voice asking…begging… for him to fuck her nearly undid him. He steadied himself. He wanted to be sure not to hurt her with the intensity of desire. Aloud, he teased, “I need to taste you first, wench.” 

She let out a groan of frustration, finally opening her legs wide in desire and need. He rotated himself around and knelt between her legs, then leaned into her, licking and kissing in joyful abandon. He peeked up over her belly in time to see her eyes fly open wide a second time, and then close again in ecstasy. She writhed in pleasure, and clutched at his hair, but then after a few moments he heard, “No, no! Inside me…oh, I can’t bear it!! Please Jaime, fuck me now!”

That did it. What little resolve he had melted away. He moved up and positioned his cock right at her entrance and then looked into her eyes. “Lady Ser Brienne. I am yours to command.” She met his gaze looking for laughter, but found none. Instead he leaned down and kissed her again, repeating, “I am yours, I will always be yours.” She smiled almost as widely as she had on the night he had knighted her, and wrapped her arms around him tightly. “Jaime…Jaime. You’re mine. Make me yours….” He slid himself slowly inside her warm wetness until he could go no further, “You okay?” he whispered. “Yesssss,” she hissed. She ran her hands down his hot, slippery back and using both hands pulled his ass towards her, effectively filling herself with him. The realization of much she needed him made his cock even harder. Kissing along her neck, shoulder and breast, he began to pull in and out of her; slowly at first, but with increasing urgency. Brienne adjusted her grip back up to his back. “Jaime! OH, Fuck me!! Oh gods!!! Jaime!!” He smiled wryly – well, there won’t have to be a big announcement of our new relationship – half the castle must have heard that. He didn’t care. As his orgasm built, he wondered if he were dreaming. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy. He reached down between them with his left hand and applied a little pressure to her mound right over her clit. 

It wasn’t much longer before she gasped, clutched frantically at his back and let out another loud groan of pleasure. The realization that Brienne had just cum on his cock made Jaime’s eyes roll into the back of his head. He let out a guttural moan and released himself into her. She kissed and held him through the waves of his orgasm, even as she was marvelling at the joy of her own.

His head sank to her shoulder. Her legs relaxed beneath him. They rested momentarily in silent, heart-racing contentment. After several long seconds, Jaime summoned the energy to disengage himself and rolled over onto his side. 

Several more moments passed and he turned to look at her. Her eyes were closed, but she seemed to sense his gaze. She turned and opened her eyes to look at him. They both smiled. He reached up and stroked her face, “You’re mine now and I’m yours, wench. What do you propose to do with me?” Her face looked serious as she contemplated his question. “I have some important questions that I need answers to,” she said in her usual no-nonsense way. He felt a twinge of alarm, “Like what?” “Like, how soon can we do that again?” Her blue eyes twinkled and her grin stretched widely across her face. His momentary tension disappeared and he laughed, “Gods woman! Give me a little time! I’m not twenty anymore! I had no idea you’d be so demanding!”

She rolled to face him, running her fingers through his beard, kissing him again, “You have no idea. Yet.” And then she stretched her arm around him and drew him closer to her. He threw an arm over her waist and lay his head on her chest, first giving a saucy lick at her nipple. “I’m looking forward to finding out, my darling Ser.” he whispered. And they both slept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning. J/B learning how to navigate their new relationship. Brienne has some help from Sansa. Blatant theft of a line from "Scrooged."

He woke and blinking through sleepy eyes, peered around the room looking for her. He reached out his arm to the other side of the bed. It felt warm, so she couldn’t have been gone for long. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Fresh clothes were laying over a chair. A hot basin of water steamed beside a towel and some soap. Not gone long at all.

Jaime got up and reached under the bed to draw out the chamber pot. He stretched his arms out wide, yawning while relieving himself. 'I can’t remember the last time I slept so well. I should be hungover, but I feel great,' he thought. 'Now, where has my wench gone?' 

He washed and dressed quickly and made his way to the Great Hall, where the other occupants of Winterfell were breaking their fasts. 'There’s no hiding her in a crowd', he thought, as his eyes alighted on the tall, blond knight diligently eating her meal. He made his way to her table, squeezing his way through the busy aisles. He wasn’t sure at first, but he thought he might have heard a stifled giggle as people noticed him making his way to Brienne. Yes, there was definitely a smirk or two. 'Well, let them smirk', he thought, 'I don’t care who knows it, she’s mine.' That made him think of the tall red-headed wildling who had also wanted Brienne, and he glanced about the room looking for Tormund. But there was no sign of him. Again, not that it really mattered, but he only wanted to concentrate on Brienne right now, not complications. 

He reached her table, but due to the many other diners, he was forced to sit across and down a few spots from where she was seated. She looked up at him as he sat down, gave a curt nod, and went back to her food. He tilted his head and gave a wry, questioning smile at her. What was she up to? But she didn’t look up again, so he sighed and dug into the food laid in front of him. He ate quickly, but she finished before him and stood up to leave. He shoveled in a couple more mouthfuls and then stood up to follow her. She turned and gave him one of her famous ‘Don’t you dare’ looks, which struck him almost physically, but he grinned and followed her out of the room anyway. 

“Brienne! Brienne!” She ducked into a nearby empty room, closed the door and turned to face him, “Jaime! Don’t follow me!! What will people think if they see us together?” 

“They’ve seen us together many times!” He was laughing, still wondering what she was worrying about. He reached out, and grabbed her arm to spin her towards him. Her eyes darted around the room, refusing to meet his.

Jaime took her by the shoulders and held her still, “Brienne? What’s wrong, wench?” A horrible thought occurred to him, “Are you...sorry about last night?” He had closed the distance between them, and she could see the worried confusion in his eyes.

“Gods no! Jaime. Last night was…” Lost for words, she finally smiled softly at him and leaned in for a kiss. He relaxed and returned the kiss very thoroughly. “I thought you might have woken up and been…sorry for what happened,” she murmured.

He nuzzled into her neck, kissing and nibbling her ear. “Sorry?? I would have shown just how sorry I am not, if you’d waited for me to wake up this morning.” She gasped as he pressed his groin against her, his cock already hard.

She put her hands on his chest and pushed him reluctantly away, “I have to report to Lady Sansa!”

“Not yet,” he whispered, “Come back to bed,” he ran his hand down her belly, and between her legs rubbing and stroking her enticingly, “I want to play some more…” He said with that half-serious, half-teasing deep tone of his, and it evoked an immediate responsive tightness from her nether regions. She moaned weakly.

“I have to go to….ohh…uhhh” Brienne broke off her protest, distracted by the pleasure of the unfamiliar sensations. She lowered herself into his movements, pressing herself over his fingers and hand. 

“Come back to bed with me, wench. I need to be inside you again.” He murmured against her mouth between kisses.  
She felt herself melting into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and running her fingers through his hair, sucking and licking at his lips. “Mmmmm…I would love to…” she whispered back, “But Sansa is expecting me. I have to…oh…stop…” she giggled. Brienne giggling. He didn’t think his heart could take much more. He laughed out loud, and increased the pressure over her clit. Grinning he held her arms down as she began ineffectually wriggling out of his grasp; but her heart wasn’t in the fight. “Jaime…I have to go…” Yet she couldn’t bear to remove her lips from his. “Sansa can wait,” he mumbled, reaching up to undo her lacings. She wanted nothing more than to allow him to undo her lacings, and then to undo herself again and again, but she knew Sansa was waiting. Reluctantly, she summoned the strength from deep inside and twisted free. 

“Jaime! I have to go to Sansa. I’ll see you later.” She stepped back, readjusted her clothes and stood up straight. 

Jaime recognized the determined look of duty on her face, but couldn’t resist one last grab of her tight round behind. She swatted his hand away in feigned indignation.

“Very well, wench. But, we have to talk about…” “Not now, Jaime. I’m late. We can talk tonight.”

“Tonight? Does that mean I’m welcome back into your…uh…bed tonight?” His voice was heavy with desire, and his eyes twinkled.

She blushed, “Of course, I mean, if you want…I mean, I thought you might want…” She broke off. 

“Mmmmmm…I love it when you blush,” he teased, “I’ll have to think of some other ways to keep you blushing tonight.” He leaned in for one last kiss which she accepted happily and then tore her lips from his and rushed from the room.

I don’t deserve to be so happy, he thought to himself. But I don’t care! 

*********

Sansa was busy at her desk writing what looked like letters when Brienne caught up with her. Her antechamber was cool, but bright with several windows. Luckily this was one of the rooms that had not been badly damaged during the Long Night.

“My Lady, I’m sorry to be so late. I was…detained.” Sansa looked up as Brienne entered the room and smiled at the tiny hesitation. Brienne was a terrible liar.

“And how is Ser Jaime this morning Ser Brienne?”

“My Lady? I…uh…he’s…uh…he’s fine, my Lady,” stammered Brienne hesitantly. She thought a moment and added, “My Lady. Does everyone know that he…that I…that we….uh…” 

Sansa rescued her from her embarrassment.

“Not everyone Ser, but many do suspect. We all saw Ser Jaime follow you out of the Hall last night and no one has failed to notice how attentive he has been to you, and you to him if it comes to that. It’s pretty obvious how you feel about each other.” Sansa had put down her quill and turned to face Brienne.

Sansa didn’t mention that a good number of the people in the in the same wing as Brienne’s had also _heard_ how much they meant to each other last night, Sansa herself among them. She didn’t want to embarrass Brienne even more.

Brienne stood awkwardly wondering what to say next.

“Brienne. We have seen hell. When death looks us so closely in the face, it’s natural to want to celebrate life. There’s no shame in that. You are adults and you are clearly in love. You will find no judgement from me.”

“Thank you my Lady,” Brienne found her voice, and responded stiffly, “I don’t know what exactly Ser Jaime feels about me, but you are right. I do love him. Perhaps I should not. But I do.” 

Sansa stood and took Brienne’s hand in hers, “Brienne, we don’t choose whom we love.”

Brienne laughed briefly, “I have heard someone say that before, my lady.”

“So, what next, Brienne? Will you be wed?” Sansa smiled at her, half teasing, half encouraging.

“I don’t know my lady. We haven’t talked about it. I…he…I doubt he would want to marry me. I’m…well…you see…I’m not…”

Sansa pressed her hand, “Brienne, I have never seen a man look at me the way Ser Jaime looks at you. He may not want to marry, that’s for you two to decide, but don’t doubt his love for you. It shines out of his eyes every time he looks at you.” She smiled.

Brienne took in this observation quietly. _Does he? Can it be true? Do I dare to believe it?_

“Thank you, my Lady. I will think about what you have said,” she answered grimly.

Sansa squeezed her arm reassuringly, “Take all the time you need, Brienne. Ser Jaime is a welcome guest here at Winterfell. His bravery and service during the Long Night has earned him that.” She moved beyond Brienne and indicated another table with numerous documents and drawings laid out upon it. “Now, let’s get busy. There is still a lot more to do before Winterfell can be a fit home for anyone.”

***********

As Brienne’s footsteps echoed up the hallway away from him, Jaime adjusted his own clothes and wondered how to spend the day. 

His feet carried him outside into the main courtyard, where the task of cleaning up after the War against the Dead continued. He looked around the crowd and moved towards Poderick who was hammering a post into the ground. 

“Good morning, Pod, have you seen my brother around anywhere?” Jaime asked.

Pod stopped what he was doing to turn and stare at Jaime. His eyes were cold.

“Good morning, Ser Jaime,” he said answered tersely. 

“What’s the matter, Pod?” Jaime looked at him confusedly.

“How is my Lady this morning?” Pod’s eyes burned into Jaime’s.

'Ah,' thought Jaime, 'I get it. Her watchdog is feeling protective.'

“She’s fine, Pod. She’s off to serve her Lady. I’m looking for Tyrion, have you seen him?”

Pod stared at him a little longer, and then replied, “Yes, he’s below, in the crypts.”

“Thank you.” As Jaime turned away, Pod laid a hand on his arm. “If she is ever made unhappy by you, Ser, you will be held to account for it.”

Jaime grinned darkly at him, “Pod, if I ever make our lady unhappy, you can be sure that SHE will be the first to hold me to account for it.” He patted Poderick on the back and stalked off towards the crypt entrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next. Tyrion puts in his .02 cents about the relationship and there will be some "second night/knight" smut!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Tyrion talk about Brienne, and Tyrion explains himself. I love a new secret relationship and how it plays out to the people around the couple. No smut in this one, I'll save that for Chapter 4. This is just fluffy romance and a bit of Jaime angst.

Jaime stalked down the uneven stone steps into the dim light of the crypt.  Tyrion was sitting on one of the tombs, apparently deep in thought.

“Tyrion!  What the hell were you thinking last night?  You totally humiliated Brienne.  Why would you do that?  To her, of all people?!”  Jaime's outrage was barely contained. 

Tyrion stood up, looked up at his brother and grinned, “I got tired of waiting for you to make up your mind.”

Jaime stopped his angry pacing back and forth, and looked at Tyrion quizzically, “Make up my mind?  What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on, Jaime.  You have to admit it.  You and Lady…er…Ser Brienne have been dancing around each other for literally years!   You wanted her, and she wanted you!   I got tired of watching you both flailing around like love-sick teenagers!”  Tyrion concluded, barely containing his amusement.

“What??  We were not flailing around like love-sick teenagers!”   Jaime’s outrage gave way to confusion, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”   He stared at Tyrion as if his brother had lost his mind.

Tyrion kicked at some random debris on the ground, “I knew if I pushed, you’d ‘rescue’ her from the particular ‘burden’ she was carrying,” he grinned up at an increasingly irritated Jaime.  “You’ve wanted to for years.   And especially with that ginger wildling lurking around enthusiastically wanting to accomplish the same thing.  And you did, didn’t you?  She no longer needs to “drink” to that particular question, does she?” 

Jaime stared at him, thinking to himself that his little brother was even more devious than he gave him credit for.

“Tyrion, you are truly diabolical!”  Jaime was split between confusion and irritation.  “I can’t believe you would manipulate me that way!

Tyrion shrugged, “The ends justifies the means.  At least…you haven’t said for sure…did the end…get justified?”

Refusing to look his brother in the eyes, he turned away and responded sharply, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Tyrion sat down again on a broken stone.  “Well, I think that answers my question.  Congratulations!  I am very fond of the Lady…Ser…that’s going to take some getting used to…Brienne.   I didn’t intend to hurt her, I just wanted you to see what was right in front of you!”

Jaime sat down heavily on a stone lid, jostling something in the crypt above and behind him.   A limp skeletal arm flopped down landing its hand on his shoulder.  He brushed it off and wriggled away from it.   

"Tyrion, you will go too far some day.”   But he wasn’t annoyed anymore, he just sounded tired.

Tyrion peered at Jaime through the dim light.

Morning after regrets?

Jaime rubbed his left hand over his face. “Gods, no! If anything my regret is that this didn’t happen sooner. I’ve wasted so much time. And then of course, I don’t…” he broke off his sentence with a groan.

“Don’t what?” Tyrion prompted.

“I don’t…you know better than most! I don’t deserve her! I don’t deserve to be happy, in general, and certainly not with such an amazing woman as Brienne.” He looked up at Tyrion, who was surprised to see the intensity of feeling in Jaime’s eyes.

“Jaime, don’t be ridiculous. You’re a good man. You fought beside her in the fight for the living. You…”

“No – stop! Yes, I’ve done good things here and there in my life, but I’ve also done some abominable things. Terrible, unforgivable things. And she is so good and honest.” He groaned again. “Gods, Tyrion! Honest! I’d forgotten what it is. She has no guile, no trickery, no manipulations. How can I sully her life by tying her to me?”

Tyrion put his hand on Jaime’s shoulder, and gently asked, “Do you love her?”

Jaime was silent for a moment, staring into nothing. Then he turned and met Tyrion’s eye steadily, “Yes, I do. She is everything to me. I can’t imagine my life without her.” He sounded a little surprised, “She’s strong, and intelligent and brave and Gods, so beautiful. And kind and gentle, and…”

“And,” Tyrion continued quietly, “How does the wonderful Ser Brienne feel about you?”

Again, Jaime sat silently thinking, “I don’t know. Not for sure. I mean I think she likes me…”

At this Tyrion laughed out loud, shaking his head, “Jaime – you really are the stupidest Lannister! Go! Go and tell her how you feel, ask her how she feels, and then you’ll know what to do next.”

“Tyrion, that doesn’t solve my problem! Regardless of how she may feel, I am not worthy of her!”

“I don’t think that’s your decision to make, big brother. I rather think that’s for the lady to decide.”

Tyrion grinned at Jaime. His face turned serious, “Despite your countless misdeeds, you are not a bad man. Think of the good things you’ve done, not just the bad. You’ve changed. Ten years ago, you were a cocky, arrogant golden lion. You have to admit, that you are not the same man now.”

“No,” Jaime admitted wryly, “Now the whole world knows I’m a greying, sister-fucking cripple.”

Tyrion thumped him, none too gently across the shoulders, “Now you’re just feeling sorry for yourself!” He continued, “If Brienne forgives you for your past sins, does it matter if anyone else does?”

“It matters that the rest of the world respects her.” Jaime insisted, “And it won’t if she’s with me.”

Tyrion shook his head, “That’s nonsense, people feel differently about you now. They know you left Cersei to come here and do what’s right!"

Jaime shut his eyes and tried to will himself to believe Tyrion’s words. He tried too, to push his guilt about his sister out of his head. It was just another thing that scratched away at his self-worth.

“I hope so, Tyrion.”

His brother gave him a gentle poke in the side, “Tell her how you feel. Brienne has earned the right to decide for herself what she wants.”

Jaime nodded grimly, “I know. I just hope it’s me."

The rest of the day passed quickly for them both. Brienne was busy helping Sansa to organize the clean up and restoration of Winterfell’s resources. Jaime joined one of the cleaning crews and spent the day removing debris from various rooms inside the castle. He was tired, but it a good kind of tired. He’d spent a full useful day and he was looking forward to being with Brienne again.

They sat beside each other at the evening meal, hips touching on the long communal bench. Occasionally they pressed against each other, and every time she felt the warmth of his thigh, Brienne blushed a little more deeply until her face was flushed red. Her blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight and Jaime thought he had never seen her look more beautiful.

  
They were joined by Pod, Gendry and Davos. It was much like the previous night; everyone lighthearted and laughing. At first Jaime was impatient to get through the meal and the after dinner socializing (drinking), but eventually he relaxed and decided to enjoy the evening.

  
The unspoken relationship between Jaime and Brienne was clear to everyone around them, though they fooled themselves that no one else could tell, as lovers often do. They had little thought for anything but each other, even while laughing and joking with the others. It was a different kind of tension than it had been the night before. The understanding between them, of what they were to each other, helped them to feel more relaxed. At the same time, there was a wonderful sense of anticipation of what the night would hold for them, once they were alone.

  
Most of the time Brienne watched Jaime out of the corner of her eye, but once in a while, she gave in to the impulse to turn her head and stare at him. She never stopped being astonished by his face. She loved every inch of it; his dimpled nose, his graying beard and his warm mouth, strong and yielding at the same time. She groaned internally. It took all her self-control not to reach out and lay her palm on his cheek, run her fingers through his beard and draw his lips to hers. _Not here though…not here_ , she reminded herself. She closed her eyes and shook the image away, pulling her attention back to whatever it was Pod and Gendry were arguing about.

  
The hall was beginning to thin out, people were wandering back to their rooms, tired after a long day.

  
Brienne chanced another glimpse at Jaime and saw that he was looking at her.

  
“Uh…I believe I’ll be heading to bed now,” Jaime spoke to the group, but couldn’t help looking at Brienne. He stood up and stepped over the bench. Brienne looked down at the floor and said, “Yes, it’s been a long day. That’s a good idea, Ser Jaime.” She also rose and climbed into the aisle.

  
“Goodnight, Pod. Lord Baratheon, Ser Davos. Ser Jaime. Good evening to you all.” Brienne nodded at the trio and moved passed Jaime and walked down the aisle out of the Hall. Jaime also nodded at the men, paused awkwardly for a few seconds and then set off towards the exit, careful to turn right, while Brienne had turned left.

  
The moment Jaime exited the hall, the three men burst out laughing. “Do they really think they’re fooling anyone?” Ser Davos demanded. Gendry chuckled, “I think we’re supposed to pretend we don’t notice.” Pod just smiled and thought, _'If my lady is happy, I am happy.’_

  
Somewhere around the right hand corner, Jaime doubled back and headed for Brienne’s chambers.

  
‘Here I am again,’ he thought, but this time he didn’t hesitate for a moment to knock on her door. It opened, and he walked inside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their second night. The big questions are asked and answered.

Brienne had been hovering, almost pacing near the door.  She was nervous; afraid to hear the knock on the door, and even more terrified of not hearing it.    When it came, her heart skipped a beat.   She felt the knot in her stomach tighten.

 Jaime strode into her room, exactly as he had the night before, bringing with him that same heady mix of sweat, wine and essence of Jaime, and she felt a flood of calm roll over her.   Jaime grinned at her, a wicked twinkle in his eye and cocked his head as she’d seen him do so many times before.

 “Well, wench?  Shall we discuss the best way to heat a room in the North again?”   His grin widened as she stepped up to his chest and answered him with sparkling eyes and a straight face.

 “If you like, Ser Jaime.  But I can think of other more interesting things I would prefer to discuss.”  She smiled at him and began undoing the laces on his shirt.

 “Well,” he proposed, “I suppose we could talk about how the younger recruits did with their training today?”    While he spoke the words, he shook off his jacket and raised his arms to allow her to lift his shirt off over his head, another echo of the night before.

 But it was all so different now.   This time when he reached out to untie the front of her shirt, she made no move to aid or to stop him.   Instead, she reached out to his face and ran her fingers through his beard as she had so yearned to do during dinner.    He finished undoing the laces and pushed her shirt back over her shoulders where it fell to the floor.    Then he ran his hand over her breast, lightly brushing her nipple, making her catch her breath.

 Brienne reached out and pulled him toward her.  Jaime reciprocated by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a tight embrace.  

“Brienne.”  His voice broke, deep with desire.  He leaned up into her lips.  For several long minutes they said nothing as they reconnected after a long day apart, losing themselves in their kisses.

When they separated, Brienne realized they’d moved as one towards the bed and were sitting on it together.    Jaime reached up towards her face with his right hand, and she caught it between her hands.

“Jaime, can we…do you mind if you take…this…. off?”

He looked surprised, “No, I don’t mind.  Does it bother you?  Surely the thing it hides is worse to look at.”  He laughed darkly.

She looked down.   “Not to my eyes.   To me, the gold hand is…well…. it’s not real.  It’s not who you really are.”   She looked up at him, serious now.    “It is artifice.  And you are real.  Your missing hand is real.  It represents the suffering you experienced – still experience – to save me.”   She looked up and met his eyes, and he was startled again at how deep and beautiful they were.  And at how she somehow made him believe that he was the man she believed him to be.    He knew he wasn’t.  But if she believed it was possible, maybe it was.

He stood up and undid the hand, dropping it to floor where it landed with a heavy thump.

“I never liked it you know,” he told her, sitting back down “It was bloody heavy.”

She reached out for his right arm, and trailed kisses from his shoulder down to where his hand should have been.  She rested her cheek against the point where his maimed arm ended and smiled at him.

He watched her while she kissed him and then reached out with his left hand to caress her face, gently running his thumb over her lips.   He leaned in to kiss her, but she had other ideas.   Slipping to the floor onto her knees, she pushed him gently indicating that he needed to lean back while she undid his pants.   He laughed and complied, helping her as he wriggled out of his clothes.   She drew them down his legs and off his feet and then tossed them to one-side.   His underclothes were quickly added to the pile.   She smiled approvingly at his erection.   Looking up at him, she reached out and wrapped her hand around his cock, gently but firmly stroking him while watching for his reaction.   He didn’t disappoint.   Groaning, he leaned back on his elbows even further, and closed his eyes.    Brienne remembered a chance encounter at an army camp one day when she’d interrupted a couple; one young man had the other’s member in his mouth.  She’d thought about that moment many times, while lying in her bed at night, imagining how it would feel.   Just thinking about it made her wet.    And now she could try it for herself.   She licked her lips and tentatively ran her tongue over the head of Jaime’s penis.    He sat up half-way, eyes wide open, gazing at her in confusion.   Cersei had always refused to please him this way, the idea disgusted her, she’d told him.    Brienne didn’t seem disgusted.  

“Is this okay, Jaime?  Do you like it?”   She licked the tip again and then proceeded to slide her lips around it entirely.

“Oh gods, Brienne.   It’s…uh…more than…oh gods…more than okay…”  He lay back down again, closing his eyes and allowing himself to surrender to her ministrations.

She closed her own eyes and began licking, sucking and mouthing his cock, sliding it in and out of her mouth and stroking it with her hands.    It grew hard and large enough that she had to be careful to keep her teeth covered with her lips, so as not to scrape him.    She was rewarded with a stream of guttural moans.

“Brienne…that’s…ohhh…so good…but you have to stop…I won’t be able…to…hold on…” he gasped out.

She briefly considered whether to comply.  She did want to taste him, the way he had tasted her last night.  On the other hand, her wet pussy was yearning to be filled.   She relented, and crawled back up on the bed, tracing kisses along his body as she went.    Shrugging off her own clothes seemed to take forever, but finally she could throw her leg over Jaime’s body and lower herself onto his straining cock.

Tonight, she was unafraid to look in his eyes as they became one.   He knows it’s me, she thought.  It’s not a dream.   She leaned down to capture his mouth and he leaned up to meet hers.   She sat back up tall and strong and he watched her sliding up and down on his cock, loving the sound of her groans as the tension inside her grew more intense.    He reached towards her and slid his hand under her slippery clit, giving her the perfect spot to lean into as she felt her orgasm begin to rise.     His cock was rock hard; all these new sensations were astonishing.   

“Jaime, your cock is so hard…it feels so good…so hard…uh…uh…” and she began spasming onto his hand.    He needed nothing more than the sight of Brienne coming, while sitting astride him to induce his own orgasm and he spent himself deeply inside her.

She collapsed on his chest, sweaty despite the chilly room.   Their breath came fast and for a while they were both speechless.

Without warning, Jaime began to laugh; quietly at first, and then growing in volume and intensity.  The motion of his laughter jostled her up and down as she lay on top of him.

Brienne rolled off and gave him a feeble smack on the ribs.

“What exactly is so funny, Kingslayer??”   She asked nervously, a half-smile on her face.   Old habits die hard.

“Wench!!  There’s nothing funny!!  I’m just…I’m just so happy!!”  Jaime almost shouted his joy.  He rolled onto his side to look at her properly, his eyes shining.   She saw the truth of his words all over his face.   

He pulled her face to his, “Brienne, Brienne…I love you…I love you.”   He covered her eyes, cheeks and lips with kisses.    “Even when you grimace at me, like you are now,”   She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued, “Even when you’re angry at me, or telling me off, you make me happy – you make me feel like everything is finally going to be alright in my life.  I have hope.  I have a future.   It’s all you.  You are my future.”   His voice had fallen to almost a whisper.   “Brienne.  I know I don’t deserve you, but I want to marry you.  I just worry….”  His face fell and he looked away.

She gazed at him, a tentative smile on her face, while her mind analyzed every word.

“Worry about what?”  She prompted.

He groaned and rolled onto his back gazing up at the ceiling. 

“How can I tie you to me?  I’m the Kingslayer.  A sister-fucker.  I’m one of the most hated men in the Seven Kingdoms, and you are one of the best loved!”

Brienne rolled towards him, laying half upon his chest.

“You are so stupid.”  She murmured, playing with his curly chest hair.

He lifted his head and looked at her, “What?”

“You are so STUPID!” She said loudly and began her own bout of giggling.

“Wench!?”   His eyes were smiling.

“Do you think there is anyone at Winterfell, or in the Seven Kingdoms for that matter who does NOT think I am already your whore?”  She demanded.   “I’ve heard the whispers time and time again and ignored them.  Should I care more now that they are true?”  she asked.  “What honour I have is my own and no one, not even Jaime Lannister can take it from me.”   She smiled at him.

“You’re not my whore,” he answered mildly, “You are my savior.  And soon, I hope, my lady wife.”  He caught her hand in his, drawing it to his lips.

“Will you marry me, Brienne?  Will you have this broken, old knight for a husband?  I have little to offer you, except my soul, and the Gods know how little value that has left in it.”  He smiled wryly.

Brienne reached out and lay her hand on his cheek, the prickly stubble felt warm under her skin.

“I love you, Jaime.   I want to be your wife, but…”  she broke off and her smile fell, “What about Cersei?  What about your child?”  

“I don’t love Cersei anymore, not that way,” He began to explain, but she covered his mouth with her own.

“I know,” she breathed as she kissed him.  “But there is still a child to think of.”

“I’m not sure I believe that there is a child.  Tyrion got word from one of his sources that her figure is not changing.   It’s been months.  She should be large by now.  Jon Snow’s maester told me that women her age sometimes mistake the changes of waning moon years for pregnancy.”  He looked at her hopefully, “I think it’s very possible that there is no child.”

Brienne looked thoughtful, “We need to be sure.”

“We?”  He looked her hopefully.

She smiled, “Yes.  We.”  She threw one of her long legs over his body, pulling him towards her, with a fierce grin.   “Whatever there is to come, we will face it together.   That’s what husbands and wives do, isn’t it?”

He caressed her face lovingly, staring into the pools of Tarth sapphires he had grown to love so dearly, and began to kiss her as though he would never stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taken me so long to finish this final chapter. It's terribly corny towards the end, but I'm still happy with where I've left them.
> 
> Thanks for the kind words of encouragement, they are very much appreciated.
> 
> There may be an Epilogue. There is one more thing I want to do with them (confront Cersei), but this stands alone for what it is.


End file.
